[Verse 1: Kanye West]N-n-n-now, my flowIs in the pocket like wallets, I got the bounce like hydrolicsI can't call it, I got the swerve like alchoooool-icsMy freshman year I was goin through hell, a problemStill I, built up the nerve to drop my ass up outta collllllll-egeMy teacher said I'se a loser, I told her why don't you kill meI give a fuck if you fail me, I'm gonna folllllllllll-owMy heart, and if you follow the charts, to the plaques or the stacksYou ain't gotta guess who's back, you seeI'm so shy that you thought it was bashfull but thisbastard's flow will bash a skullAnd I will, cut your girl like Pastor TroyAnd I don't, usually smoke but pass the 'droAnd I won't, give you that money that you askin fo'Why you think, me and Dame cool, we assholesThat's why we here your music and hit fast fo'Cuz we don't wanna here that weak shit no mo'

[Verse 2: Kanye West]N-n-n-n-n-now who the hell is thisE-mailin me at 11:26, tellin me that she 36-26, plus double-dYou know how girls on black planet be when they get buboleeAt NYU but she hail from Kansas, right now she just lampin, chillin oncampusSent me a picture with her feelin on CandiceWho said her favorite rapper was the late great FrancisW-H-I-T, it's gettin late mami, your screen saver say tweetSo you got to call me, and bring a friend for my friendHis name Kweli(You mean Talib, lyric sticks to your rib)I mean(That's my favorite CD that I play at my crib)

I mean(You don't really know him, why is you lyin)Yo Kwe, she don't believe me, please pickup the lineShe gon' think that I'm lyin, just spit a couple of linesThen maybe I'll be able to give her dick all the time, and get her high

[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]YeahI can't believe this nigga use my name for pickin up dimes butGET EM HIGH, I need some tracks you tryin to pull tracks outAnd my rhymes as fittin to blow you tryin to blow back southWell ok, you twisted my arm, I'll asist with the charm, aiyyoAin't you meet that chick at the conference wit ya mom?And she's the bomb, boy she got the boujI behaviorAlways got somethin to say like an okay playa haterAnyway, I don't usualy fuck with the internetBirth Controls stuck to they arm like NicoretteYou really fuckin that much, you tryin to get off cigarettesAnd she think it's fly, she ain't met a real nigga yetI appoligize if I come off a little inconsiderateI got the bubble cushion a sister could get hit of it

[Verse 4: Common]Get em high like noon, or the moon or room filled with smokeA high filled with dopeY'all assumed I was doomed, out of tune, but I still feel the notesThe real nigga quotesReal rappers is hard to find, like a remonte, control rap is not aUsed too but still got love, that's why I abuse you who are not thugsRock clubs, it's like Tiger, Woods in the hood, to have my own reality showCalled Soul Survivor, I stole all liver, niggaz in youYou'se a bitch I got ones that are thicker than youHow could I ever let your words affect me, they say Hip-Hop is deadI'm here to resurrect me, mosh is to sexy to even make songs like theseThat's why the braud don't know your name, like Alicia KeysTo many featured emcees, and pro-ducers is populerTwelve thousand spins, nobody got to coppin theAlbum, how come, you the hot garbagerThe years clear your image and snooped upLabel got you souped up, tellin you you sickMan you a dick with a loose nutVideo hard to watch like MedusaEven your club record need a boosterChimped up, with a pimp cup, illeaterate niggaRead the infa, red across your head I'm bread king like SimbaBolder then Denver, I ain't a Madd Rapper just a MC with a temperYou dansin for money like honey, I did this my waySo when the industry crash, I survive like KanyeSpittin through wires and fires, MC retirinGot yo hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then